Page 15 of Sweet Girl
“Yeah, I’m here. Thanks for that, Ky. But that’s not all...it’s...well...”
“What is it?” I prompt.
“Shit,” he cussed, causing me to jerk my shoulders back into the pillows behind me. It’s rare that he swears out loud. At least, I haven’t heard him curse much. “The thing is...God, this is hard to admit. But I’m not sure Lyndsay is...I don’t think she’s interested in being with me anymore.”
This drew a loud gasp from my throat. Holy crap. Van had no idea what those words did to me. I felt an overwhelming sorrow for his obvious heart ache over this. That was my first reaction. The second is difficult for me to admit even to myself. The jealousy lessened its tight rein over me, opening up like the wings of a butterfly that’s been swaddled in the confines of its cocoon.
“We got into a huge argument last weekend. I left without even staying the night. I confronted her about something I’d been holding back on for a while and she just blew up. Told me to leave. So I left her apartment, drove around for a little while and then went back because I couldn’t drive all the way back to Tempe without finding out what was going on with her. When I got back to her apartment, she wouldn’t even let me back inside. She just said she couldn’t deal with it then and told me to go home. I mean, what the fuck was I supposed to do? Make a scene? Tear down the door?”
“Oh, Van. Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry. That had to have been awful for her to treat you that way, especially after all this time together.” Even as I choked out the words, I knew they sounded lame. Who was I to make commentary on long-term relationships? Or lover’s quarrels? I’ve never even had a boyfriend. I literally had no clue what it felt like for him. But it didn’t stop me from adding, out of morbid curiosity.
“Have you spoken with her since?”
Although I can’t see him, I instinctively know his head is bent forward and his eyes are closed. The sound of his breathing comes through the connection, slow and easy. I want so badly to be there for him, to wrap my arms around him and just hug him tight. It kills me that he’s feeling so down. I wish I could find the right words to say that will make it better. But I can’t. I have none to offer.
Plus, I’m not the one who has what he wants or needs right now. Lyndsay holds all the cards.
“She called me yesterday,” he said and I mentally calculate that it’s now Wednesday. She obviously took her own sweet time. “She apologized, if you can call it that. She said she’s confused and she doesn’t know what she wants. Said that things are just too crazy with school and ball. And the distance makes it even worse.”
I erupt with more indignation than I should probably feel. “But you’ve been doing the distance for years...this isn’t anything new for her.”
He huffs. “Yeah, I know. I said the exact same thing.”
A few seconds lapsed until we spoke again.
“Van.” I say his name like a prayer. Soft. With reverence. A gentle plea. A whispered touch. “Where do things stand between you two right now?”
As horrible as it sounds, the hope in my heart is building with every pass of our conversation baton. Of course I don’t want Van to suffer this type of hurt and heartbreak. As his friend, I should want him to be happy...and at one time, Lyndsay did make him happy. But right now, she’s stabbing his heart out and filling him with despair. And for that reason alone, I hate her. I hate what she’s doing to him. Van is an amazing guy and doesn’t deserve the horrible way she’s treating him.
If I were any other kind of girl – maybe one who was brave and true to herself – I might find a way to confront her and let her know just exactly how much of a bitch she is. Kady would do that. But me? Probably not. Plus, it’s not my war to meddle in.
“God, Kylah. I don’t know. I told her I’d give her time to figure things out. What else can I do? Thanksgiving is in a few weeks and we’ll both be back home in Tucson. So I’ll give her ’til then and we’ll see what happens.”
“So you’re just going to let her have all the control? All the power in this one-sided situation?” I nearly slapped my hand over my mouth, in disbelief that I actually said that with such malice.
An apology is on the tip of my tongue when he says, “I know it seems like I’m a fucking wuss. I suppose I should just tell her to go fuck herself, but I can’t. So if that makes me weak, I guess that’s what I am.”
Kill me now. If I wasn’t already laying down, I would’ve fallen to my knees from the sounds of his desperation. My heart longs to be there for him. To show him she’s not worth it and he deserves so much better. Whether that’s me, or not, it doesn’t matter. He just is too perfect to be shit on like this.
“Van,” I say, the phone to my ear as my hand crosses my chest to rub the spot at my breast bone that aches for him. “I know it’s not much of a consolation, but I’m always here if you need to talk. I may not be able to give any good advice, but I’ll listen. I’ll commiserate with you, if that’s what you need.” I would also be more than willing to learn how to make a voodoo doll and extol some harsh pain in Lyndsay’s keester.
I hear the smile he gives me across the phone connection.
“Thanks, Ky. I really appreciate it. I can’t talk to the guys about this stuff. They’d either make a joke of it and rub in that I’m just pussy whipped, or tell me to just go fuck her out of my system.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, wanting to throw up my hand to offer my services if that’s what he decided to do. I don’t know what to say to that, though. Since I’m not a guy, neither of those things would ever cross my mind as the solution.
“Wow.” Is all I say in response.
“Sorry. I know that sounds crude.”
“No. No, I understand. I think you have the bad end of the stick right now. But you’re handling it the best that you can. And I’m sure that she’ll come to her senses and realize what a great guy she has in you...” He scoffs on the other end of the line but I don’t let him get away with it.
“I’m serious, Van. I know it sounds totally cliché to say it, but if she doesn’t appreciate what she has with you, then she’s off her stupid, mother-trucking rocker. And it’s her loss.”
The loud laugh that fills the line surprised me with a deep resounding vibration that I can feel all the way down to my toes. This is the first real laugh that I received from him the entire phone call.
“Mothertrucking? Did you really just use a kiddie version of profanity, Kylah? You are just too damn sweet for your own good.”
